


Paint Me A Blue Sky

by gaialux



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-28 08:55:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20423285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaialux/pseuds/gaialux
Summary: Before Jon leaves for Dragonstone.





	Paint Me A Blue Sky

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scatteredmoonlight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scatteredmoonlight/gifts).

He was leaving. Of course he was. That’s all Jon ever did — leave for the Wall, the battles — and expect Sansa to hold down the fort; to work around her brother’s whims and so-called heroic choices.

“It’s only for a while,” he assured her. “We need these allies. You can’t tell me we don’t.”

Sansa said nothing. Focused instead on the fire flickering in front of them. They were running out of wood, of food, of every supply to care for their people.

“When?” Sanasa said finally, a deep sigh welling up in her chest and spilling out through clenched teeth.

“Soon. When I can gather some men. Davos—“

“I know.” Her gaze snapped onto his. “I know you have managed to get everyone on your side with this. Everyone who matters, anyway.”

She knew she was being petty. She didn’t care.

“Sansa—“ Jon stepped closer to her, knelt down by her chair and rested his hand just shy of touching hers. Sansa snatched her hand away. “Sansa. Listen to me. Do you want to come to Dragonstone? I have never tried to stop you.”

“We need at least one Stark here in Winterfell,” she all but spat.

“You have more right to that title than me.”

She finally looked at him and, as she feared, a deep well in her chest burst open. “They call you their King.”

“Do you want to be their Queen?”

It was a title Sansa had twisted around in her brain, tasted on her tongue late at night when allowing her thoughts to wander. If Jon went to Daenerys if he bent the knee as Sansa knew she would demand, then what? Would he even bother to return?

“They’re loyal to you,” she said. “So go, Jon. Just go. We will survive here like we always do.”

She couldn’t keep the swell of emotions in her chest down much longer. Heat grabbed and pricked at her eyes. She remembered, so long ago now, the oath Jon had made to stay. To remain loyal to her. Hot breath whispering against her lips but they couldn’t. Not then.

Not until after Father, and even then...

“Sansa.” He said her name again, low and soft. Somehow it still filled the room and flowed over her body. Jon. Her brother. Her King. He’d become everything to her over these last few years.

Sansa let Jon tilt her chin toward him, gently pressing their mouths together.

“Stay,” she said, letting herself be weak. Just for a moment.

“I will come back,” he said. His breath was cool against her lips, sweet and bitter all at once. A scent she had come to associate with Jon. With her _brother_. “I promise you, Sansa.”

His eyes were bright, open, with that sheen of liquid she was sure her own mirrored. They did need this — Sansa knew they did. Allies to protect them, keep them safe. Not just Winterfell but the entirety of _Westeros_.

“Okay,” she whispered. Not even sure it was loud enough to be audible. But Jon took her face again, kissed her slow and long.

“Thank you.”


End file.
